BIOBaby: Baby Fever

I gave birth last year as did two of my cousins. They are both pregnant again. My friend Alegra is pregnant. My brother-in-law is expecting a baby with his wife any day now.

Me? Not so much.

But I must say that all these budding bellies are giving me baby fever! I don’t want it! I just got over this affliction and I was miserable the whole time I had it. So, why then am I suddenly having baby blues? Because it wasn’t ALL bad.

The excitement and expectations. The planning and preparation. Nothing is sexier than watching your husband prepare the nursery for his son. The joy and beauty of creating and bringing a life into this world. Nothing beats it.

Ugh. But I’m done. Done, I say! No more babies for me. When I found out my other cousin was pregnant I asked Donny…

“You don’t want to have another baby, do you?”

“Not yet.”

Please God, tell me he said, “Not yes.”

What I need to do is keep Donny away from my cousins because the last time those two heifers got pregnant, so did I! And as much as I like/miss the planning and joy, I had to pee in the shower this morning because I wouldn’t have time to bathe and go to the bathroom like a normal person while Jack slept. That ain’t right.

So please, give me all the reasons getting pregnant again would be wrong. Bad. Disastrous, even.

Pregnancy-Free Babies

I love being a Mom.

But I hate being pregnant.

I love giving birh. (Sue me.)

But I hate being pregnant.

My cousin has two little boys. One is a little younger than Kali, and the other is a little older than Jack. She’s expecting another baby this Summer.

Yesterday, I’m sure I weirded her out because I just kept staring at her belly. We both gave birth last year. And she’s going to do it again this year. I’m equal parts amazed and jealous.

I asked her yesterday, “Do you like being pregnant?” She just kinda shrugged.

Then I realized something.

She’s good at it! She’s good at being pregnant. If I were good at being pregnant, I’d be more inclined to do it again. But I’m not good at being pregnant. In fact, I fail miserably at it.

She is one of those pregnant women where everything on their body stays the same except the belly. Everything on me spreads like Miracle Whip. She gives birth and leaves the hospital in the jeans she wore in high school. I give birth and leave the hospital looking like I’m about to go into labor again. Ive never heard her complain while pregnant. I,on the other hand, complain loudly and often. Then I write blogs about it so hundreds can feel my pain. She also goes into labor, hops on the table, pops out the baby sans drugs, and then puts her feet up to watch a movie. I go into labor and I’m asking that they meet me in the parking lot with an epidural and tequila chaser.

I want another baby, I just don’t want to get pregnant to have it. I wouldn’t even mind having a baby soon. I just don’t want to get pregnant to have it.

I wish there was some way to convince my cousin to have a baby for me.

BIOBaby: OK… Jack Does Run the Show

I don’t know how it happened. I don’t know when. But somewhere along the way, Jack began running the show. He doesn’t have complete control. He’s not like the CEO. But he may very well be the general manager.

No, he’s too young to be labeled “bad.” He doesn’t throw fits or tantrums, although I notice when he can’t manipulate an item the way he wants to, he’ll get so frustrated his face looks like he wants to hit something… or someone. He’s too young to talk back or refuse meals. So, you may be wondering how Jack, at almost 6 months old, is running the show.

More often than not, Jack will have my ass tippy-toeing around the house Scooby-Doo style. When he decided that he was no longer going to sleep through the night, my fate was sealed. I am now so thrilled when he sleeps, whenever he sleeps, that I put the whole house on lockdown. You cannot talk, laugh, sneeze, fart, or breathe with any kind of tempo. This is the complete opposite of when Kali was a baby. I had her conditioned to sleep through an elephant stampede with cymbals on their feet. Not Jack.

The phone rings, he’s up. I cough, he’s up. I shift on the bed, and a remote hits the floor, he’s up. And you know what drives me crazy? Those programs where while the show is on you can leave the volume at a comfortable level, but commercials are like a trillion decibels higher. What’s up with that? I find myself trying to time the commercials to have mute ready.

And you know how with some kids they can be asleep for only ten minutes or so when something wakes them up, so it’s no problem for them to go back to sleep almost immediately? Not Jack. When he’s up, he’s up. That little head pops up and he’s all smiley dimples. I’m torn between slipping him some Benadryl, and scooping him out of the Pack n’ Play to love him up. I always choose the latter in case you were wondering.

One other area where he runs the show, and by run the show I mean I put his feelings before anything else; the breast pump. I pump more now than I did two weeks ago because I’m trying to build a supply for him while I’m in school two nights per week. The first time he saw me use it, he had just eaten, and he stared at the contraption like, “What the hell is that?” As the milk started to flow into the bottle, he got it. Jack began to lick his lips and smack his gums. He clawed at my shirt over the unoccupied boob.

Because I didn’t want him to feel threatened, and even though I had just fed his little ass, I whipped out the free boob, cradled Jack to it, and let him nurse. He never took his eyes off the pump. He would suck and stare, and then stop sucking, but still stare. It was like he was competing with the pump! Dueling lactation!

As I’ve continued to use the pump around him, he’s more used to it now, though I believe he still doesn’t like it. He’s too young to comprehend that it’s needed to make sure he eats while I’m gone, but there’s something that tells him he needs to be there when I use it. He needs to latch on to the other boob almost as if he wants to make sure he’s not replaced. He eyes it warily. Whether he’s hungry or not, he needs to stake his claim, and I let him.

And damn if I don’t feel like a cow the whole time.

He also rocks the argyle…

Yes, my baby rocks a curly faux-hawk, wings on the side, and a horizontal bald spot in the back. Don’t judge him!

BIOBaby: Newborn Phone Etiquette

My father has taken to telling me everything he can possibly think of in one phone conversation. I realized this yesterday when it seemed like every time I was about to get off the phone, he’d have just one more thing to say. He finally admitted that when my stepmother asked him the other day why he hadn’t called me to ask about Kali’s Christmas list he said…

“Oh, I’m not calling Nina.”

“Why not?”

“She said not to call her anymore.”

He’s right. I damn sure did.

Why?

Because ever since Jack got sick two weeks ago his whole schedule was thrown off. Not only does he not want to sleep through the night, he gives us holy hell when we try to get him to sleep. So what ends up happening is I treasure the times during the day when he is asleep and I can either sleep myself or get something done like pee, wash my ass, or eat a meal that isn’t yogurt. But not all three. I rarely have time to accomplish three tasks.

“I’m not calling her,” my father continued, “She said not to call unless someone was dead or dying. She’s even hung up on her mother. I’m not tryna get hung up on.”

It’s true. I hung up on my mother. Twice. Let me explain…

We have two phones. When one is on the charger across the bedroom the other is always at arms length. If it rings while Jack is sleeping, I’ll grab the closest one and hit the off button, but that doesn’t stop the one across the room from ringing. So, now I just hit the on button to connect the call and immediately hit it again to disconnect the call.

Don’t judge me. I’m in a difficult position here.

When people call I have to be honest.

“Did I wake you up?”

“Yes. And the baby. So, thanks for that.”

If I’m polite, and by polite I mean lie, then they’ll continue to call whenever they want and people, that’s just wrong. When someone has a newborn baby at home I think all family and friends should operate on the “don’t call me, I’ll call you” tip. Seriously.

But what really pisses me off, is the gall of some people when you inform them that yes, your call about absolutely nothing that couldn’t wait till later or better yet, could have been conveyed just as accurately via IM or email (or another soundless avenue), did disrupt the little bit of sleep myself and my five-month-old have managed to get they say this instead of apologizing…

“Why don’t you turn the ringer off?”

Now, never mind that I don’t know how to turn off the damn ringer on either phone, that’s not the point! The point is that I shouldn’t have to justify my annoyance past, “You woke up my sleeping baby, you fuck!” Any response other than, “Sorry. Call me when you can,” will just ensure you get on the “don’t take their calls at all” list.

And let’s say we take the sleeping, angelic, innocent, baby out of the equation; although, anyone okay with denying a baby sound sleep should be shot in the knee caps (just saying), shouldn’t respecting someone’s house rules be enough?

My father obviously got the message. My mother? Not so much. She still calls, but doesn’t call back immediately when I hang up on her ass. Donny has also stopped calling on his lunch break to see what we’re doing when one day my response was, “The same thing I do everyday around this time when you call and Jack is sleeping. I’m either trying to sleep too or wondering if I can pull off washing my ass and eating a sandwich at the same time.”

And he’s Jack’s father!

Newborn Phone Etiquette

• Don’t call before 8am.
• Don’t call after 10pm.
• Don’t call if the baby has been sick. You’ll probably add to the stress of a changing sleep cycle and the parents really don’t care that you’re calling to tell them something stupid about something stupid.
• Don’t call back if you call and get hung up on.
• You know what? Don’t call. We’ll call you.

Newborn IM Etiquette

• Don’t take it personally if I’m slow to respond. I am most likely taking care of the small life I brought into this world. Your bullshit can wait. Don’t buzz me fifty times. Don’t keep asking, “Where are you?” The answer will always be the same. “I’m nurturing, motherfucker.”

• Forgive all typos. I’m most likely typing with one hand while giving sustenance to my child. The fact that I’m willing to chat with you while I do this should make you feel special so don’t bust my balls about abbreviating almost every word in my sentence. You know what I’m tryna say!

God, I really need to get some sleep.

P.S. Even if my complicated phone did have the capability to turn off the ringer, I wouldn’t. I have another child in school and I can’t have the phone off in case the school calls, but again, I shouldn’t have to explain that to anyone calling to shoot the shit and woke up my baby!

BIOBaby: Crying Over Spilt Milk

I pumped about 8oz. of breast milk, some of which Donny immediately fed to Jack via a bottle. Jack had a few ounces and then Donny sat him up to burp him. When he did so he also managed to spill the remainder of the breast milk all over our bed. It seems the bottle he was using has a feature that allows you to control the flow of the milk by turning the bottom of the bottle. Donny must have had it too loose because the next thing you know the fruits of my labor became a puddle on the bed.

I lost my shit. I yelled and I cried. If cow’s milk were $10 a gallon I still wouldn’t have thrown such a fit had he spilled that all over the bed. But my milk. Well, that’s liquid gold. I don’t pump that shit for fun. I’m proud of every drop! I pump to keep up my supply, relieve pressure while Jack is sleeping, and store bottles so that once or twice a day my nipples can get a break and Donny can spend some quality feeding time with his son.

I know it was the hormones, but still… you can’t just go spilling a woman’s breast milk like that. That ain’t right.

Last night Jack went down for the final time a little after midnight and slept until… 6:30am! I was so shocked and relieved. Of course, the only problem was that I woke up around 4am so engorged I had to pump. I just knew that by the time I was done he’d wake up but he didn’t. I pumped, went back to sleep, and got another 2 hours. Woohoo!

I haven’t been doing the Baby Wise routine as strictly as it suggests. We started it in earnest on Saturday, but on Sunday we had family over all day so it was kind of hard to stay on track. I don’t know what to attribute last night’s 6 hour sleep to, but I’ll take it. It may just be a fluke. We’ll see how it goes tonight.

Finally, Jack has this funny/weird little thing he does and I’ve been meaning to write about it.  After having him home for a day or two I noticed that he would watch me, but only when I wasn’t looking at him. There’d be times when he’d be next to me either sleeping or falling asleep and I’d turn to look at him and catch him staring at me. But the moment I turned my head towards him, he’d snap his eyes shut. Donny and Kali thought I was crazy until Donny noticed him doing it. He was changing Jack’s diaper and noticed Jack staring at me (I was watching TV.) When I turned my head to Jack he quickly closed his eyes. Donny started laughing. It was like a little school boy with a crush on a girl. It’s okay. I’m crushing on him too.

BIOBaby: No Pee On Me

So far, Jack hasn’t pissed in my face. Or anywhere else on me for that matter. He’s gotten Kali’s foot, our bedspread, and his bath water. But not Mommy. But he’s done some other stuff.

When we first brought him home we didn’t have to worry about accidental squirting because his circumsion was still healing which meant his little business was constantly covered by a vaseline laden gauze. When it was diaper change time, whoever wasn’t changing the diaper helped the other out by preparing a fresh square of gauze with a generous amount of vaseline.  The dirty diaper was opened, butt was wiped, balls cleaned, creases seen to, and a fresh diaper was swapped out. Before closing the clean diaper the old gauze was quickly replaced with the new one. Easy, breezy.

On Monday we were told his circumsion had healed nicely and we could stop using the gauze. All of a sudden big bad Daddy was concerned with getting pee in his face. “Nina, can you pass me the Wee Block?” I just smirked and handed it off. Now the diaper changing routine remains pretty much the same except after we quickly remove the Wee Block, we quickly clean the penis area, and then quickly close the clean diaper.

The other night I was changing Jack’s diaper on my bed. It was probably around 2am. Since I’d been on the Lasix his poop was runny and he was prone to shitty farts, or sharts if you will. He didn’t have a rash, but his little bottom was getting quite red from the constant changes (he’d have a shitty fart just after you changed him and had moved on to nursing) so I decided to put a little Desitin there to ward off a rash.  As I was applying the cream to his booty with my index finger he sharted… on my finger. A warm spray of baby poop got ON not IN my hand, mainly the index finger.

“Jack!”

He responded by farting again.

It’s funny how the bodily fluids of your newborn don’t seem as bad as say… your own. And definitely anyone else’s. I remember when I was a preteen visiting my aunt in South Carolina and she was saying how one of her children had been so congested as a newborn she had to literally suck the snot out of her nose with her own mouth because the suction bulb was too large to fit into the baby’s nostrils. At the time my first thought was, “You nasty.”

Flash forward to 1999-2000 and Kali is sick. I find myself in the same predicament.  I tried sticking my pinky finger in her little nostrils to get the gook out and no luck. I took a deep breath and put my mouth to her nose and sucked out her snot. Don’t judge me!

Later on the same night that he sharted on me we were lying in my bed face to face. He was drifting off to sleep and I was talking to him kinda drifting off myself.  I leaned forward and kissed him on the lips just as he spit up. ON not IN my mouth.

“Jack!,” I said, but it came out more like, “Hmmhgh” because I was afraid to open my mouth.

So yeah, no pee on me. That’s something, right?

BIOBaby: Sleep When He Sleeps

Donny is an ass man.

His son is a breast man.

All this kid wants to do is nurse. He wakes up smacking his lips and trying to eat anything near his face. When I pick him up I kiss him and he tries to suck on my lips, chin, and cheeks. He tries to suck on his shirts and fists. When Donny is caring him he turns his face towards Donny’s chest and when he realizes there isn’t anything there to feed him he has a fit.

I have to mentally prep myself before he latches on because that shit hurts! It’s the first ten to twenty suckles and then I don’t even realize he’s there. I can read and watch TV while he eats with no problem. I started taking the advice of one of my baby books and I will occasionally night nurse him. If he wakes up in the middle of the night and wants a feeding I’ll nurse from my right breast first, and then because of my position on the bed I’ll lay down and nurse him from my left. We’ll usually end of falling asleep that way.

He only woke up twice last night so I woke up this morning really engorged. The first thing I did was pump. I got about 2 ounces from each breast. We’re storing it in the fridge, but because he is now not accepting bottle nipples I may just freeze it and use it in his baby food when I start making it at six months old.

Since Donny is getting up at 6:30 to get Kali ready for school I’ve gotten better at not waking him up at night to help with Jack. Because I still have a little pain when I walk we try to have everything I might need within reach before bed so he doesn’t have to get up and get anything for me. I knew these late nights were taking their toll on Donny after what happened the other night….

Sometimes our internet will drop and we’ll have to go reset the router which is in the guest bedroom. We’ll pull a plug from the back of the box, wait a few seconds, and then plug it back in. The other night Jack had just fallen asleep and I jumped in the laptop to find the internet was down. I asked Donny to go reset the router. He was down there for like an hour and a half. Because Jack was sleeping I didn’t want to call for him. Eventually Jack woke up, and I nursed him, and then we both fell asleep. When Donny finally came upstairs I was like, “What the hell happened to you?”

Turns out he fell asleep. He said he unplugged the router and the next thing you know he was waking up on the guest bed and it scared the shit out of him. He said it took him a moment to figure out where the hell he was and what he was doing.  I knew then the poor man needed a break.

The swelling has gone away and so far the only side effect from nursing while taking the medicine (I’m done taking it) is that Jack seemed to have really bad gas and a lot of runny poop. Fucking Lasix!  We were in the doctor’s office exam room waiting for the doctor when he got hungry. So, I’m sitting there nursing him and Donny is sitting next to me. Jack is naked except for his diaper because he was just weighed and the doctor has to check him. While he’s nursing he farts. It was this long rumbling, thundering, no way this came out an ass just a week old, fart.

“Jack!,” I cried out by way of admonishment.

At the same moment Donny goes, “Did someone knock?” He thought someone had knocked on the door.

“No, that was your son farting.”

“Damn, Jack. I thought someone knocked on the door.”

And then we just busted out laughing. We must have laughed for a full two minutes and I tried to stop because I was feeding Jack and he and my booby were just bouncing around. It’s silly moments like that that we’ll always remember.

They say you should sleep when the baby sleeps. Since Jack sleeps more during the day than night I thought that I would try changing his schedule. I’d try making him stay awake during the day so that he’d have no choice but to sleep at night. Uh, no. Do you know how hard it is to keep a newborn awake?  It’s not like he’s a toddler or a kid like Kali where you can put on some cartoons or take them out somewhere to entertain them and keep them awake. Since I can’t beat him, I might as well join him. After I type this and finish my lunch of tuna fish sandwich and cranberry juice, I’ll lay down next to him and try and nap. Of course, the moment my head hits the pillow he’ll wake up. That’s how he rolls.

BIOBaby: Preparation

I realized this morning that I have to start preparing myself for the very real possibility that this baby is a girl. I’ve been calling this baby he/him/Jack/your son/my son/our son/your brother for weeks.

It’s not that I’d be let down. Well, I guess disappointed doesn’t sound right either. It’s just we really want a boy. Really want one. And then the other night I was watching Donny sleep and I started thinking about what an amazing father he is and he’s going to be with this baby. I realized how much our lives have already improved just loving this baby now, and that it’s only going to get better. Then I knew that it really doesn’t matter. As long as he/she makes it here, we’ll be okay.

And really when I had this revelation, I was thinking about the Down’s Syndrome test. A really wonderful woman posted a comment in one of my other BIOBaby blogs about her son born with it and I remember thinking, “I couldn’t be that strong.” And even as Donny told me that if the test was positive he’d still want to have the baby and love the baby, I admit there was a part of me thinking, “You’re a better person than me.” But that night, I realized that it was about the love. That’s what we’ve been given. This opportunity to increase the amount of love going on in this house. All I have to do is take care of myself for this baby for the next six months and put the rest in God’s hands.

Where some people may think of having children in terms of inconveniece, lifestyle changes, and financial burden, I know the real truth. Some women can’t find a decent man, much less a great one. I got one. Some women can’t have children, or again find a man they’d want to procreate with, and I have Kali. And on top of it all God decided that our hearts and home are ready for another person to love and love us. And I am damn lucky. And grateful.

So, sorry Frogger, but I have to disagree. I could cure cancer tomorrow, but at the end of my life, the best thing I could have ever done FOR ME, was have this love in my life. Because at the end of your life, who the hell cares how many degrees you have, how much you’ve traveled, who you dated, how many shoes you owned, how you made your money, etc.? Those things are nice, but I have to believe that there’s something more. And I think there is. And I’ve got a taste of it already.

I’m looking forward to all the laughter this baby is going to bring. Those of you that have had children in your life know what I mean. Babies discovering the world … a wonderful thing to witness. I’m looking forward to watching Donny be a Dad to a baby. He wants this so much. A few nights ago we were talking about it and he admitted that he’s never held a newborn baby or really been around one. Huh?

“Oh, Donny then you don’t know about newborn baby smell?!”

“Nope.”

“It’s the best thing in the world! It’s like… like… cake! Yes, like a baby cakey goodness. Except you don’t want to eat them. You just want to kiss them and hold them and nuzzle them all the time.”

He didn’t make fun of me like he usually does. He just smiled and looked straight ahead and I could tell he was imagining holding and nuzzling our baby. So, yeah, I don’t care what anyone says, this is awesome. Boy or girl, we are lucky and blessed. And I say this after being hit with a wave of nausea last night that would have knocked an elephant on it’s ass.

P.S. My boobs hurt. They are big and round and full. Saturday night, we had just gotten into bed, and  I asked Donny to reach under my shirt and unhook my bra.

“Ok, now pull it off.” He does.

“Now, just cup my breasts please.”

And we laid like that for awhile. Him spooning me with his hands reached around cupping my boobies.Why did I ask him to do that? Because the moment I remove my bra it’s like they just radiate energy. They get all tingly and stuff. It’s like the bra is confining the flow of whatever is going on in there and when it’s removed, the girls just sing. Having them held felt nice.

“You can let them go now. Thanks.”

“Anytime. Any. Time.”